M for Mature
by seaglasssoul
Summary: Smutty prompts and drabbles.


A/N: So I had a moment of 'I really don't want my old bad porn on here' so that is why this is the only chapter. But! Going forward, I hope to only put things out that meet my current standards, and I'm sorry if I deleted something you particularly liked - it was too embarrassing for me to keep up. Thanks for understanding! This is a slightly edited (minor cosmetic things so that you can still see the difference in my writing from Nov 2016 to now) version of the drunk smut I wrote for my girl Kat. Love u always, babe. 3

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There was something dangerous in the tilt of her smile, in the lazy ease with which she met his gaze from across the room. Smoke curled in small puffs towards the domed ceiling of the gala hall where they were schmoozing as part of a routine international relations mission, and no amount of delectable finger food would make any of the diplomatic ass kissing any easier. Yeah, he knew it was important to maintain allies across the pond, and yes, he was aware that current alliances would influence future conflicts blah blah blah, but it was hard to focus on all that when her damn eyeshad his adrenaline pumping.

They were smoldering and similarly sick of political bullshit and so damn _alive_. But as she looked at him, smile deepening when she raised her chin to draw attention to her unmarked neck, Soul felt very much like _he_ would be the one who needed protecting.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

After another hour of sensing her eyes on him as he dutifully scanned the room, she parted the sea of people with nothing more than a presence like a taut wire trap about to be sprung; then it was just a few hallways and the swipe of a key until they were alone together in the hotel room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, she was a virulent tempest, storming through the room discarding articles of clothing and jewelry as she went.

"Can you _believe_ that they expected us to cede ownership of the silver mines?" Maka spat, kicking off her heels and violently divesting herself of earrings and bracelets. "It's like they have no recollection of the Mineral and Ore Treaty of 1957." She began tugging at her cocktail dress, a clingy, satin affair accented with jade at the collar and sleeves, before releasing a frustrated huff and striding over to him. "Can you get this zipper? It's stuck."

Her cheeks were red from pacing and barely restrained fury, and his breath caught when she looked him dead in the eye. There was something else in that look, something primal and _angry_ , and he was completely, utterly, at its whim. "Sure thing."

He stepped closer to fulfill her wish and swept aside the loose strands from her fading updo, fingertips sparking where his touch made her shiver. Slowly, gently, he tugged down the zipper of her dress and drank in the growing expanse of skin it revealed, scars of varying severity cross stitched across her back like a macabre corset. Each one was both a testament to her resilience and also to his weakness, because he should have been able to protect her, should have been able to keep her safe when the air vibrated with Kishin screams and the taste of blood was on both their tongues as they ignored broken bones to stand and fight for their lives-

"You can let go now." Her voice startled him out of his frowning contemplation of her battle scars as she moved away to shimmy out of the top of her dress, and he immediately missed the contact. Whatever had been coalescing between them tonight came with an increasingly difficult-to-ignore urge to touch her skin.

"Ah, right," he mumbled, and turned to stare fixedly at the floor. Seeing flashes of her skin wasn't new given the almost decade they'd been partners, but her cool dismissal was like a slap to the face. In all honesty, he _should_ have known his place, _should_ have known that he was nothing more than a weapon to her no matter how many nights they silently clung to each other while they waited out the sticky remnants of nightmares filled with each other's dying screams, heartbeats fast in the inches that separated them.

He listened to her wrestle with whatever she had under her dress until a low growl sparked electric bubbles in his blood. "Could you-just, come here again. I can't get this undone."

Powerless as always to her commands, he kept his gaze trained on the ground until he saw her bare feet on the floor in front of him.

"Here," she said, guiding his hand to a strap on her thigh. "I can't get this off."

He risked looking up enough to see that he was dealing with the hook in a garter belt, a persnickety contraption that required pushing the clamp together first before being able to unhook it, and he loosened it as quickly as he could before taking a step back. It wouldn't do to make Maka uncomfortable.

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait. There's one more."

Oh. Right. He shifted his vision over just enough to see the other garter belt strap and got to work dismantling it as well, hoping that she didn't notice his creeping blush in the low hotel room lights. She smelled like rosemary and red wine, something decadent and savory that released coils of heat in his lower belly and awoke something ancient that demanded release. His hand tightened on her thigh.

"Soul?" Her voice hitched momentarily, a brief, easily overlooked stutter on the last syllable of his name that nevertheless raised every hair on his body.

"Yes?" His voice was rougher than he'd meant it, drunk as he was on the proximity to the only person he'd ever let see the pockmarked pieces of his soul. Rather than shut down and turn away, though, she'd turned him inside out and covered him in her energy, her dawn complementing his dusk in ways he wasn't sure were possible on a human scale. What he'd give to be able to show her how much she meant to him, too.

"I don't think...you've finished." Her last words were barely a whisper, the friction of a match on lighting paper, and he restrained the urge to pull her to him just long enough to look into her eyes and see if her words matched their implication. Jade daggers bored into the core of his being and thin tendrils of resonance clawed at his sanity when she licked her lips and stared at his throat. "You should keep going," she whispered, her hand burning in his.

Swallowing hard, Soul hooked his thumb into her garter belt and followed it back until the ridges of the clasp dragged beneath his oversensitive skin. "I want-" Maka stopped talking when he pulled her loosened belt down her thighs, echoes of pleasure surging from his fingertips to his heart and down past his stomach when he picked up on the ghosts of her emotions, tangled as they were becoming in each other's soul. They fell into informal resonance so easily these days that it was hard to resist the infinite sense of _belonging_ when the world in which they lived was so full of division and malice.

"What do you want?" Soul asked, entranced, unable to believe he was the cause of her goosebumps and small, shuddering inhales.

With almost indolent ease, Maka put a hand on his chest and shoved until his back was against the wall and he was coughing from the force of the movement. "I want," she began, curling her fingers into the neck of his shirt, "you to _make a move._ "

When he opened his mouth to reply, she stuck her fingers under his tongue and tugged his face closer, eyes flashing when his teeth cut her. "No words," she said in warning, "just action."

His blood was on fire. Carefully, he covered his teeth with his lips and sucked the blood from her fingers in gentle circles, caressing each digit longingly before moving to suckle the palm of her hand. It was then he made eye contact, then he noticed the hunger in her eyes that nearly rolled him under the ever-present urge to resonate. But he had to resist for at least a little longer, at least until he was truly certain that this was what she wanted.

Tentatively, he brushed back her bangs and brought his head close enough for their noses to touch. Remembering her words, he tried to implore her with his eyes, asking _is this what you want?_ before he did something he regretted.

There was nothing to worry about, it turned out, when Maka fisted a hand in his hair and drove him back against the wall, all fiery passion and fierce teeth battling against the tattered remnants of his sanity while their tongues danced and their souls ignited.

It was too much. Her scent, her body heat, her _taste_ \- Soul found himself surrendering to the heady currents of resonance, eager to merge his essence with hers so they could revel in their oneness again.

But she cut it off.

"You have to earn that," she admonished with a twisted smile, yanking his head to the side to leave stinging love bites across his neck.

Soul had to repress the moan that clawed at his throat from her lips and the way that she nibbled on the skin of his pulse. It was clear she wanted a challenge, someone who could match her strength and skill and _hunger_ , so he swallowed his pleasure and wrapped a strong arm around her waist. Stepping behind her back foot, he moved forward so she tripped backwards into his arms with a small gasp. He used her momentary surprise to his advantage and reversed their positions, swinging her against the wall and burying his face near her throat to taste the crease in her neck that made her breath stutter and her hips roll. The sounds she was making drove him to greater heights, giving him the courage to run a hand up her thigh and leave wet bruises on her collarbones while she fought with his belt buckle.

The moment she undid the top button of his pants, he grabbed her hands in one of his and dug his fingers into her hipbones. Pulling down her panties, he rumbled, "You're gonna have to do better than that," before sinking to his knees and throwing her leg over his shoulder.

Small hairs tickled his nose as he nuzzled his way in with small, exploratory licks. It was almost overwhelming, being allowed to touch her center like this, and he was determined not to make her regret it.

Experimentally, he tried opening himself to resonance to see if maybe _now_ she'd let him find that sense of completion, but he was again denied.

Channeling his frustration into action, he dove into her folds and groaned at the way her taste lit up his tongue; she was tangy and sweet and salty and he just _had_ to hear her now, some primal mandate driving him to tease her further and harder until she howled his name. It was supremely satisfying when she pressed herself into his mouth, when the breath caught in her throat and all she could do was pant while he explored her with a frenzy borne from want and a tongue greedy for her taste.

A flicker of thought bled across the bond and prompted him to wet two fingers in his mouth before pressing them into her, which elicited one of the sexiest moans he's ever heard. He was bombarded by vague half-sentiments and blurry first person impressions of fingers curled deep inside as she panted into a pillow, so he tried crooking his fingers and _oh God, yes, right there, suck harder_ \- the force of her need caused resonance to flicker like a strobe light across their bond before she could get herself under control.

After a deep, shuddering breath, Maka ripped Soul's face away from her and pressed him to the floor, nibbling at his neck and palming his crotch to ensure he'd stay down. "Take off your pants," she said in that infuriatingly compelling Meister voice, the one his very blood sought to obey no matter how much it stung his pride and made him grit his teeth in shame, and so he did.

Slowly.

He could see her frustration at his creeping pace in the way she ground her hips into him and brought one hand lower to tease where his mouth had just been, seeming to consider just getting the job done herself. As much as _he_ wanted to be the one to build her up, there was something undeniably intoxicating about watching her drag her fingers up and over the pink flesh his tongue had just worshiped in patterns new but also urgently familiar.

Now in only boxers, Soul realized he was waiting for another order from Maka and ground his teeth; there was only so much Meister bullshit he was willing to put up with in one night. He had his weapon pride! No matter how right it felt to have her take control -

Before he could do more than let these thoughts solidify, though, Maka pulled him up by his shirt and kissed him like she was trying to consume his soul, sparking a brief resonance full of flitting images and sounds and tendrils of thought and _oh god she heard that._

Breaking the kiss, Maka gave him a predatory smile and laid him back down. "Meister bullshit, huh?" she asked in mock thoughtfulness. "Well, that won't do." She twisted around so she was facing his feet before settling her thighs on either side of his face, tilting her head back enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye as she leaned forward to put a hand around his erection. "Let's see how much _bullshit_ you think it is after this."

His vision tunneled as she lowered herself onto his face. Nose deep in her slickness once again, he managed one proper lick before her mouth was around him and all he could do was buck his hips and moan into her as she did absolutely sinful things with her tongue. Every lick, every suck propelled him closer to the edge, and he could tell she was enjoying the ability to rub herself along his face and moan lowly around his cock.

She began to press against him in a surefire sign that she was getting close, so Soul reached up to grab her ass and slam her into his ravenous tongue. He was rewarded by a strangled grunt and wildly gyrating hips before she rocked herself back down to earth on his face. That should have been enough for him to come, really, but Maka had stopped her ministrations as Soul had intensified his, so he remained painfully close to the edge when she removed herself from him.

That challenging glint was still in her eyes, though, now mixed with an immensely satisfied and sated look that did not help his straining problem at all. "Your turn," she all but purred, crawling closer to trail small kisses along his neck and grasp him through his boxers.

Her touch was both too much and not enough contact for what he needed to feel right then, so he slid a hand behind her head to pull her down into a slow, rich kiss, reaching through the bond to stroke the effervescent edges of her soul until she growled and bit his lip. "Enough of this. Are you going to have me, or aren't you?" The dark promise in her eyes was enough permission for him to grab her shoulder and roll them over, bearing down on her neck and breasts with his mouth while he lined himself up at her entrance.

"Are you sure? What about-" He had to ask, just in case he'd finally actually gone mad and the last hour was just some sick, twisted hallucination.

She lifted her hips and yanked him forward, swallowing his low groan in a deep kiss while she wrapped her legs around his waist. "Been on the pill almost as long as I've known you. And I'll show you how _sure I am_ once you get moving," she panted, squeezing him closer with her legs and making him see stars because she squeezed him inside her, too.

He started slowly so he could pay attention to what spots made her clench and whimper so beautifully, but he was close to the edge already and she kept urging him on to go _faster faster_ and _harder harder_ and it was too late, he was gone, spilling out into a universe of two.

It was only after a long, befuddled moment that he realized he was still on top of Maka, who was raking her hands through his hair and planting small kisses on his neck and shoulders. Soul exhaled luxuriously before bending to scoop her in his arms and deposit her on the bed they had forgone in their haste.

"I could get used to that," Maka hazarded after a few moments of contented silence, shifting her head just enough to peer at him out of one eye.

"Mm, me too," he murmured, rolling onto his side to twine his arms through hers and completely envelop her smaller form. "Guess I should thank the jerks downstairs for getting you so riled up. I wouldn't mind seeing that side of you more often."

That hard gleam back in her eyes, Maka smiled and shook her head slowly. "You really have to be careful what you wish for," she said before rolling out of his grip and straddling him. He shuddered at the nail she pressed into his cheek hard enough to draw blood, and had to repress the groan that pushed at his throat when she stuck that finger in her mouth and _sucked._

"Round two won't be so _nice._ "


End file.
